Woods of Winterfell: The North Remembers
by Mrs. Hudson Took My Skull
Summary: Sequel to Woods of Winterfell. Gwyn was left behind in the great escape from King's Landing. Sansa, Arya, and Carn are on the run. And Robb is King in the North. Read to find out what happens next.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the sequel of Woods of Winterfell. If you have not read that story please do so. If you don't, you won't understand anything that is happening in the sequel. Other than that please enjoy, review, favorite, and alert this story.**

 **I'd like to dedicate this story to my best friend. Without her I wouldn't have bothered to write it. It's amazing what death threats can do for a writer.**

Woods of Winterfell: The North Remembers

Chapter One

Sansa stared blankly at the crackling fire, a rabbit roasting over its flames. She sighed heavily, slowly lifting her eyes to look at the two people standing by the fire. Carn and Arya were currently arguing about Arya's hair.

"Come on Arya. You have to let me do it." Carn said, his hands on his hips. Arya crossed her arms and glared up at him.

"No. I like my hair the way it is." Arya snapped. Carn rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Don't you think Sansa liked the way her hair looked? She dyed it. We can't dye you hair, it's already dark." Carn told her. Arya looked over to Sansa, who looked balefully back. Sansa looked down at her hair. Gone was her beautiful, fiery red hair. Her long locks were now dyed pitch black. She hated it, but her red hair was recognizable. Their horses had been recognizable as well, having stolen them from the royal stables in King's Landing. They had sold them as soon as they could, choosing to continue on foot.

"Just do it Arya. We can't be recognized." Sansa ordered. Arya glared at her sister.

"Don't tell me what to do. You're not mother, and you're not Gwyn." Arya cried. Arya gasped, covering her mouth, her eyes widening. They had been on the run for nearly two weeks, and nobody had dared mention Gwyn since that first night. Arya had wanted to turn back and rescue her. Carn had put his foot down, and Sansa had sided with him. They just couldn't go back, it was too dangerous. And Gwyn had ordered Carn to leave her and get to Robb.

Sansa sighed as she stood and walked over to her sister. Arya's mean expression had evaporated, replaced with one of sadness. Sansa wrapped her arms around her little sister and hugged her tight. Arya fiercely hugged her back.

"I know you don't want to cut your hair, but you have to. I may not be Gwyn, but she would make you do it too." Sansa said quietly, running a soothing hand up and down Arya's back. Arya sighed, looking up at Sansa.

"I know." She sighed. Sansa nodded, stepping away from Arya and holding her hand out to Carn. He took the shears off his belt and handed them to Sansa.

"Ready?" Sansa asked, stepping towards her sister. Arya sighed again.

"Ready." She said. Sansa walked behind her sister, carefully picking up a small section of hair. She lifted the shears up, and snipped it off just above Arya's ear. She threw the discarded hair in the fire before turning back to Arya.

"I'm going to look like a boy." Arya grumbled.

"So no different, then?" Sansa teased. Arya reached back and whacked Sansa on the leg.

"Hey, don't hit me while I've got shears near your head. I'll end up shearing you bald." Sansa laughed. Arya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"If I'm bald when you're done I will give you a haircut to match." Arya muttered, making Sansa laugh again.

Carn smiled as he settled himself under a tree, watching the sisters. Sansa continued to snip off chunks of Arya's hair and throw them in the fire. This was the most spirited he had seen the two girls since their escape. As he watched Sansa cut off another piece of hair he reached up and ran his hand over his cropped cut. Gone were his short curls, which had been completely chopped off. All he had left was a short fuzz, cut extremely close to his scalp.

He let his hand flop into his lap, his head tilting back to rest on the tree. A bone deep exhaustion was settling over him. He hadn't been able to properly rest since they left King's Landing. His mind was filled with worry for Gwyn, and for the girls. He had never taken care of anybody like this before. He couldn't let anything happen to them. Carn looked back to Sansa and Arya. At that moment Sansa glanced up at him, catching his eye. She blushed and quickly looked down. Carn swallowed heavily and looked away. He would protect them with everything he had, even if it killed him.

"Done." Sansa said, stepping away from her sister. Carn stood and walked over to stand in front of Arya. He studied her new haircut, squinting his eyes. Slowly a teasing smile crept across his face.

"You definitely look like a little boy." He said with a laugh. Arya growled and jumped at him, catching him around the waist. Carn barely budged, which made him laugh harder. He grabbed her up and held her tight in his arms.

"Why is that a bad thing?" He asked. "You're always hell bent on not looking like a lady anyway."

"I want to look like a girl because I am one. What I look like shouldn't control what I can and can't do. Girls can do everything boys can." Arya said grumpily.

"I never said they couldn't." Carn said with a broad smile. "I was just teasing you, Arya." Arya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Whatever." She muttered. Carn glanced at Sansa who was watching the exchange with a small smile.

"Whatever? Whatever this." Carn crowed as he started tickling Arya. Immediately their clearing was filled with the sounds of Arya's high pitched shrieks of laughter, and Carn's taunts. The sounds bounced through the trees, echoing through the forest.

Not too far away two men stopped, listening closely.

"Should we check it out?" The younger one asked the other. The older one nodded.

"Running low on cash, aren't we?" He asked, smiling a dirty, toothless grin. The younger one chuckled as they turned off their original course, heading for the laughter.

* * *

"Carn, Carn. Stop." Arya begged.

"Do you give?" Carn asked, still tickling her mercilessly.

"Never." Arya giggled.

"Then I will never stop." Carn bellowed. Sansa chuckled, shaking her head. Suddenly a twig snapped behind her in the forest, making her whip around to look at the trees.

"Carn, Arya." She hissed. They paid her no mind. "Will you two stop?" She barked, making the pair freeze in place, Carn practically holding Arya upside down.

"What is it?" Arya asked, her brows furrowed. Sansa turned back towards the trees, her hand hovering over the dagger at her hip. After their escape she had given Carn the sword he had given her back, not feeling comfortable carrying it. He had insisted she at least carry his dagger. Arya had Needle. Though her sword was small she was somewhat protected. Carn told Sansa she needed some sort of protection as well.

"I thought I heard something." Sansa muttered.

"I don't hear anything." Arya said as Carn slowly placed her back on her feet, his hand going to his sword. He unsheathed it and pushed Arya behind him, suddenly alert. They all stood still, their ears pricked painfully for sound. There was a tension in the air that put Sansa's teeth on edge. Suddenly there was a high pitched whistling sound. Seconds later Carn cried out in pain. Sansa whipped around to see an arrow protruding from his shoulder.

"Carn." Sansa cried. Arya ran around to his front as he fell to a knee, his face screwed up in pain. She drew Needle, standing protectively in front of him.

"Arya, what are you doing?" He asked through gritted teeth, yanking the arrow out of his shoulder.

"Protecting you. What's it look like I'm doing?" She snarked. Another high pitched whistle sounded. Sansa jumped out of the way just in time, the arrow embedding itself in the ground where she had been standing.

"She's quick, this one." A gruff voice sounded through the trees. Sansa pulled Carn's dagger from her belt, slowly backing up towards her companions. A man entered the small clearing, a bow and quiver strapped to his back and a sword in his hand. His dark hair and beard were grizzled and dirty. When he smiled at Sansa she could see that his teeth were yellowed, and a few were missing. He chuckled as he looked her up and down. Without any warning he lunged forward, sword raised. Sansa jumped off to the side, leading him away from Carn and Arya.

"Dance little one." The main cooed, coming at her again, swinging his sword about. Sansa jumped away again. She could feel her legs shaking in fright, she feared they would not hold her up for much longer.

"Sansa." Carn yelled pushing himself up to stand.

"No you don't." Another man's voice called.

"Carn." Sansa cried, as the new and younger man came up behind Carn, but it was too late. The man hit Carn over the head with the flat of his sword, knocking him out. Arya jumped out of the way, narrowly missing being crushed by Carn. Sansa's eyes widened as the new man turned his sights on her little sister. He slowly started to creep towards Arya who began to back up, Needle raised in front of her.

"Don't touch her." Sansa yelled, backing away from her adversary, but keeping her eyes on Arya and the other man. Both men laughed. Sansa looked to Arya and nodded. Arya nodded back, the fear in her eyes receding. In the weeks since their escape Carn had been preparing them for this sort of thing. He wanted to make sure if they were attacked they would survive it. While her man was distracted with his laughter Arya dropped to the ground, dashing between the man's legs. At the same time Sansa shoved her dagger into her belt and dashed towards Carn, grabbing up her sword which he kept on his belt with his own.

"What?" Arya's foe crowed. Moments later Arya was up and behind him, plunging Needle into his back.

"No." The older one cried as his friend fell to Arya's feet, dead. Arya's eyes were wide as she looked from Needle to the man, her blade coated in blood.

"You'll pay for that you brat. That was my brother you just killed." The last man growled. He lunged at Sansa who managed to raise her sword in time to block his blow. Her blocks were weak. Every time his blade struck hers she could feel the force of the blow radiate up her arms and through her body, painfully rattling her teeth. He moved too fast for her. She was unable to find any opening to strike at him. Suddenly a slightly disoriented Carn was behind him. Carn grabbed his shoulder and ran him through with his sword. The man froze, sputtering in surprise before falling to the ground. The three Northerners were silent for a few moments, all of them breathing hard.

"Are you two alright?" Carn asked, staring at Sansa searchingly. She nodded, audibly swallowing. "Arya?" Carn asked. When Arya didn't answer he looked over to her. "Arya?" Arya was staring down at the man she had killed, her mouth hanging slightly open, her eyes vacant. Sansa felt tears prick her eyes at the sight. Her sister, her little eleven year old sister, had just killed a man. Sansa shoved her sword into her belt and stumbled over to Arya. She grabbed Arya's arms, forcing her to turn away from the man. Sansa fell to her knees in front of her sister, her grip on the girl's arms tight.

"Arya?" Sansa practically whispered.

"I." Arya started. "I killed him." She said, her voice small.

"It's okay. It's okay." Sansa said quickly. Arya shook her head. Sansa could feel her trembling. Carn sighed, coming over to the pair and kneeling down beside them. He placed a large, warm hand on Arya's shoulder and shook her a little.

"Look at me Arya." He said softly. Arya slowly looked up at him.

"Your first kill is always the hardest. I'm sure you've heard your father, or somebody else, talk of it before. But it will get better, you will be okay. He was trying to harm you, your sister." He said warmly.

"Gwyn." Arya said.

"What?" Carn asked, glancing at Sansa in confusion. Sansa shook her head, not sure what her sister was on about.

"I heard Gwyn talking about killing someone for the first time with Robb once. They didn't know I was listening. She was on a patrol with Father when they were attacked by wildings. She killed people. She stayed locked up in her room for days after. I was worried. So I went to see her, and I heard them. She wasn't okay after." Arya said worriedly. Carn sighed, now understanding what she was getting at.

"She's one of the strongest people I know. If she wasn't okay," Arya said quickly.

"Arya." Carn said, cutting her off. He knew of what she was talking about. A memory came to him of a late night on the trek to King's Landing from the North. Gwyn had been unable to sleep, plagued by dreams of her first kill. She had told him she often still dreamed of that day. She hadn't just killed a stranger who had been attacking her, she had killed her brother and his wife, her family. The guilt one experienced after killing someone for the first time had been magnified tenfold for her.

"That was different. You cannot compare yourself to Gwyn. She killed people very important to her that day. She had no choice. And neither did you. Gwyn learned to deal with it eventually, and so will you. You've seen her now. You said she is one of the strongest people you know?" He asked. Arya nodded. "She is stronger now because she came out the other side of her battle alive and learned to deal with what she did. You will be stronger now because of what you did. You fought honorably Arya. You were protecting your family. Take comfort in that."

Arya looked down at her feet for a moment, biting her lip. She sighed, but nodded. She stepped back from Sansa and Carn, forcing them to let her go. She wiped Needle off on her breaches and put it back in its scabbard. She looked up at them, putting a brave face on.

"That's my girl." Carn said, giving her a small smile. Together he and Sansa stood, but he stumbled. He put his hand up to the back of his head. His fingers were instantly covered in warm, slick blood. Sansa stepped closer to him, taking his arm and putting it over her shoulders. She wrapped her arm around his waist.

"We should go." Sansa said, eyeing the two dead man on the ground.

"Yes, go." Carn said, gritting his teeth.

"What about your wounds? Your shoulder. Your head." Arya asked Carn.

"We'll take care of it later when we are far from here." Carn said. Arya nodded before dashing around the clearing, grabbing up their packs. Carn managed to strap his to his back. He started to strap Gwyn's on as well but Sansa stopped him. He had insisted on carrying it everywhere they went.

"I'll take it." She said, snatching the bag from him and strapping it to her back with hers before taking his arm again. He tried to protest but she silenced him with a rather Catelyn-esque glare. "Arya, are you ready?" Sansa asked, looking to her sister to see she already had her pack on her back, but that she was bent over one of the dead men, looting his pockets and bags.

"Arya." Sansa snapped.

"What? He could have something useful." She said shoving the man's things into her own bag before doing the same to the other man. Sansa rolled her eyes before starting to guide Carn out of the clearing.

"Come on." She said exasperatedly. Arya scoffed at her, running over to the fire where their long forgotten rabbit was done cooking. She grabbed up the stick it was on and ran after her sister and Carn, taking a huge bite out of it as she went.

* * *

The sun was setting, and the two men had been riding around the forest all day. They had been tracking the two bandits, Lannister spies, since the early hours of the morning.

"If we don't find them soon his majesty will skin us alive." The lighter haired one griped. The darker haired one rolled his eyes, and nodded and hopped off his horse. "What are you doing?" The lighter haired one asked.

"Looking for their trail." The other answered. The lighter haired one scoffed.

"You won't find it in this light. Slithery, sneaky snakes those two." The darker haired one ignored his companions comments as he knelt amongst the brush of the forest floor, carefully looking about. A few quiet moments later he pointed slightly to his left.

"There. There are a few twigs broken on those bushes, and there are foot prints." He said, standing.

"The horses won't be able to carry us through that. Low hanging branches." The lighter haired one said gesturing to the nearby trees.

"Then we go on foot." The other said, grabbing up the reigns of his horse as the other man jumped off his. As they started to pick their way through the bushes the lighter haired one started to whine.

"Where's that bloody wolf of yours? He'd be better at this tracking thing than we are."

"Hunting, probably." The darker haired man said with a casual shrug. Eventually the two broke out into a clearing. There were their bandits, lying dead on the ground, near a spent fire. The darker haired one squinted stepping forward towards the fire.

"They've been looted." The other said as he knelt down by one of the men, searching him. "Jon?" He called, looking over when he didn't respond. Jon Snow bent down by the fire and picked up a clump of what he thought might be half charred hair. He held it up for the other to see.

"Theon." He said.

"What is that?" Theon asked.

"Hair. Human, I think." Jon said.

"Why would someone burn human hair?" Theon asked as he stood. Jon stood as well, dropping the hair back on the ashes of the fire.

"The only reason I can think of is someone is trying to disguise themselves and get rid of the evidence." Jon said. "Otherwise they would have dropped it anywhere, left it for the birds and their nests." He said. Theon nodded, looking around the clearing.

"There was quite the scuffle here." He said. Jon nodded, carefully walking around the clearing, eyes on the ground.

"There were two, no three, others." Jon said, tracking the footsteps in the compacted dirt. He stopped and stared at a tiny set of footprints that went from the fire to the other side of the clearing. "One of them is a child." He said. Theon raised his brow.

"Should we follow them? The spies might have written their findings about our camp down, and whoever looted them left nothing behind." Theon said warily. Jon nodded with a sigh, running his hand down his face.

"Aye." He walked back to the fire and held his hand over it.

"It's barely warm. They've been gone hours, but still. They couldn't have gotten too far. It looks like one of them might be injured." He said, pointing to a spot on the ground where there was blood and a large skid mark in the dirt that looked like someone had fallen there. Theon nodded.

"Well, let's go then." He said.

* * *

Sansa grimaced as she stoked the fire. She glanced over to Carn and Arya where they fell asleep. Carn was leaning up against the base of a tree. She noted that the bandage on his shoulder had spots of blood on it. It would have to be changed soon. The bandage on his head was slightly askew from getting caught on the tree bark. Nestled into his side was Arya, curled into a tight ball. Carn had his good arm wrapped protectively around her. His other hand was resting on the hilt of his sword where it lay across his lap.

As she looked at them she felt the terror she had felt earlier resurface. She had been so afraid that they would be hurt or worse. She could not be more thankful for how things turned out, even if that meant that Arya had to kill someone. She gave her sleeping sister a soft, loving look. Before they left the North she would have told anyone who asked that she couldn't stand her sister, and until a few weeks ago that would have been true. When the guards came for her the day her father was arrested all she could think about was if something happened to her what would happen to Arya? If she died would her sister think she died hating her?

Sansa shuttered as she looked away back to the flames. If they had killed her instead of putting her and Gwyn on house arrest she would have died with so many things having gone unsaid. She didn't hate Arya, not really. She annoyed her greatly, that was a fact. So Sansa was often short with her, which led to fighting. But deep down she loved Arya, and would die before letting anything happen to her. Earlier, when they had been under attack, and she saw the man bearing down on her little sister she thought her heart would stop in her chest. And then that heart broke as she watched Arya run the man through. She sighed as she sat back from the fire, pulling her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against her knees, forcing herself to take deep and calming breaths. She had to stay strong, for all of them, for Gwyn.

Slowly, she picked her head back up and looked to Carn. She felt her pain and fear recede slightly. He had been a great comfort to her the past couple of weeks. She felt sure that they would not have survived without him. As her eyes roamed his chiseled cheeks, his strong jaw she felt herself blush. Since meeting him she had found she rather enjoyed looking at him, speaking with him.

Sansa jumped as she heard a twig snap in the forest behind her, all thoughts of Carn evaporating.

"Not again." She muttered, standing quickly and removing her sword from her belt. She hadn't given it back to Carn, not this time. "Carn." She whispered. She glanced at him to see he was still sleeping. "Carn, Arya." She whispered, her eyes dancing over the dark trees. Moments later a large white beast emerged from the darkness, his eyes glowing red. Sansa immediately lowered her blade, standing up straight in surprise.

"Ghost?" She asked loudly. He yipped at her excitedly, looking over his shoulder once, before cantering over to her and bumping his nose against her free hand. She limply placed her hand on his head as she heard more twigs breaking and the low rumbling of men speaking. She raised her sword once more, stepping in front of Ghost.

"Put that sword down, you look ridiculous." A rather familiar voice called.

"Theon?" Sansa called as the man himself stepped through the tree line. He gave her his characteristic smirk.

"Sansa?" Another voice called. Sansa dropped her sword on the ground as a man with dark curly hair stepped into the light of the fire.

"Jon." She breathed out in surprise.

* * *

The small, nearly spent, candle flickered in the slight breeze that was coming through the open window. All was quiet. The room's only inhabitant, a woman with long matted dark hair, lay completely still in the bed, asleep. A loud clattering sound floated in from outside her window, followed by loud cheerful laughter. Gwyn Stark's honey colored eyes snapped open, staring up at the red stone of the ceiling, as her heart pounded painfully hard in her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sansa stared open mouthed at Jon and Theon.

"Sansa?" Jon asked, raising a tentative hand towards his half-sister.

"I think we broke her." Theon chuckled. Jon rolled his eyes.

"Shut up Theon." Jon muttered as he took slow steps towards the stunned Sansa.

"You don't tell me what to do, Snow." Theon grumbled. Jon shook his head, groaning lowly.

"When we get back to camp I'm hiding in my tent." Jon said to himself.

"Why? Am I annoying you? Are you breaking up with me?" Theon asked with a smirk.

"Yes." Jon said simply as he reached his sister. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a small smile. "Sansa?" He asked. Suddenly Sansa came to life, throwing her arms around Jon's neck. The two had never been close, Arya gravitating more towards Jon than Sansa, but in that moment she felt an extreme amount of relief in seeing him and Theon. A small part of her had thought she would never see them again, or anyone else from Winterfell for that matter. Her relief was all encompassing.

"What's going on? Unhand her." Carn's voice rang through the small camp. Jon and Sansa turned their heads, still locked in an embrace, to see Carn on his feet, a disoriented Arya in on arm, his sword held aloft by his other.

"Carn." Sansa said exasperatedly. Carn's narrowed eyes slowly widened to a comical size as he took in who she was hugging and who was standing a few feet away holding in his laughter.

"Jon Snow?" Carn practically whispered. At this Arya practically came alive in his arms. Her eyes snapped open and zeroed in on Jon.

"Jon Snow." Arya yelled excitedly. She wriggled about until Carn was forced to let her go. As soon as her feet hit the forest floor she flew to Jon and Sansa. She hit them with such force all three of them went sprawling to the ground. Arya was all over Jon in moments, crawling up high enough to throw her arms around his neck. He laughed loudly, hugging her back. Sansa sat up, sitting cross legged beside them, watching the reunion fondly. She glanced at Carn who was still staring, slightly confused.

Sansa turned her head when she heard Theon walk up beside her. He offered her a hand up, which she took. As soon as she was fully standing he pulled her into a tight hug. Sansa had never hugged Theon before. Like Arya and Jon, Gwyn had always been the one closest to Theon, but she found herself hugging him just as hard as he was hugging her. When they pulled apart neither said a word, only sharing an understanding look.

"What are you two doing here?" Carn finally managed to say, seemingly over his shock as he stepped towards the group.

"We could ask you the same." Jon pointed out from the ground. It didn't look like the siblings would be getting up anytime soon unless someone pulled Arya off of him. Carn smiled as he bent down and picked Arya up, placing her on his hip like a tiny doll. Arya gave him a grumpy look while Jon stood, a small smile on his face as he brushed dirt and twigs from his person.

"Carn, down." Arya said, tapping Carn on the shoulder insistently.

"Yes, my lady." He intoned, placing her gently on the ground. She rolled her eyes and swatted at him. Jon's lips twitched, threatening a smile as he grabbed Arya and pulled her close.

"I think we need to sit down and have a conversation." He said, looking from Carn to Sansa. "Supposedly you all are being held in King's Landing."

"And you're supposedly at the Wall. You don't look like a Crow to me." Carn said. Jon sighed, shaking his head. All stood still for a moment before Theon groaned and moved to take a seat by the fire.

"Come on, then." He said exasperatedly. Slowly the others joined him, and the storytelling began.

* * *

Sansa hugged the journal protectively to her chest, it's cracked and worn leather cover flaking a little in her grip. She remembered the first time she had seen the journal on the trek South, Gwyn writing in it by the light of a campfire. It had been new then, glossy and beautiful. Not even three months on the journal looked years upon years old, having been through so much use and travel. Gwyn had carried it with her through their travels, writing in it everyday. In King's Landing she kept it under her pillow, making sure to write in it every night before bed. When fleeing the city she had put it in her bag, the rough journey hard on the book.

Sansa slowly looked around their clearing. It was early morning, just after dawn. Theon and Jon were readying their horses while Carn and Arya cleaned up. Theon had been helping pack their bags onto the horses. He had picked up Gwyn's bag, asking whose it was. When Carn had said it was Gwyn's he had been solemn for a moment and then a mischievous look came across his face as he started to root through it. As soon as he had pulled out the journal Sansa had snatched it from him, not wanting him to read Gwyn's thoughts, which were meant for Robb alone to read.

"Alright. Let's go." Theon called at large as he strapped the last bag to his horse. Ghost cantered playfully around the horse's feet, the horses ignoring him as they were used to it by now. Sansa walked over to Jon who was helping Arya onto his horse. He climbed on next before helping Sansa up as well. Sansa wrapped one arm around his waist, the other still clasping the journal. She looked to her left to see Theon and Carn on Theon's horse. Carn had a goofy grin on his face as he firmly wrapped his arms around Theon and nuzzled the back of his head.

"Oy, don't be weird." Theon yelped.

"I'm never letting go." Carn said wistfully, making the sibling burst into raucous laughter.

"Enough. We need to go if we are to make it to the Stark camp before luncheon." Jon said, still chuckling as he kicked his horse into motion.

* * *

Sansa felt her heart pound nervously in her chest as they broke from the tree line, coming to the top of a hill. As the horses stopped they caught their first glimpse of the extensive Stark war camp. Tents and soldiers spread out below them for miles. Sansa looked to Carn who had an excited smile on his face. It dawned on her that she, and Arya, would not be the only ones being reunited with their family. Theon had mentioned the night before that the Great Jon and the Small Jon were both currently in the camp. Jon and Theon spurred the horses forward, galloping down the hill. Sansa could just barely make out Arya's whooping laughter over the whistling of the wind.

As they got closer and closer Sansa could see soldiers starting to point at them and wave. Jon and Theon slowed as they reached the edge of the camp. As they passed through the tents and people some of the men called out greetings to the two Council members while others stared at the girls and Carn, whispering to their neighbors. Sansa turned her face into Jon's back, avoiding their curious collective gaze. Eventually she felt the horse stop, prompting her to pick her head up. They were at a makeshift stable. Arya was first off the horse, jumping down without any aid. Jon laughed as he jumped down as well, ruffling the little girl's cropped hair. He turned and held his arms up to Sansa who fell into his embrace. He made sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go, giving her a warm smile. She didn't think she had ever seen him so unrestrained with his emotion.

"Shall we?" Theon asked, stepping up beside them with Carn, who was practically bouncing with anticipation.

"Yes." Arya shouted excitedly before anyone else could respond. Jon put a hand on each of his sister's backs, leading them through the camp, Theon and Carn just behind them. As they got closer and closer to the center of the camp, where Robb's tent was, Sansa could feel herself filling up with nerves and excitement. Finally, Robb's tent came into view. As they neared, the tent flaps opened, Catelyn Stark stepping out with a shorter and stouter woman with grizzled gray hair. Sansa was unsurprised to see her Mother, Jon having told her of the woman's journey, but glad to see her all the same.

"Who is that?" Sansa whispered to Jon.

"Lady Maege Mormont. She's on the King's council." He whispered back.

"Mother." Arya yelled, breaking away from the group. Catelyn whipped around mid-sentence, her expression one of surprise and disbelief.

"Oh. Arya. Arya." Catelyn cried. She turned briefly towards the tent. "Robb." She called before turning back and dashing towards Arya, catching her up in her arms. Arya wrapped her arms and legs around her mother, yelling her head off in excitement. Catelyn was laughing and crying as she clung to her youngest daughter. Sansa held fast to Jon's arm as she watched, tears blurring her vision. She thought her heart might actually burst from happiness. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed movement at the front of the tent. The flaps opened and again and out stepped Robb, dressed in his leathers, a full beard on his face, weariness in his eyes, and a sword at his hip. Sansa turned to Jon, holding out Gwyn's journal.

"Hold this?" She asked. He took it with a nod before she took off.

"Robb." She cried. He zeroed in on her, confusion written all over his face. Quickly his expression morphed to realization and elation.

"Sansa." He breathed out as she hit him full force, knocking the air out of him with an 'oomph' sound. She could feel herself crying as he started to laugh, pressing kisses to her hair and rocking them. Yet again she was overcome by the idea, as she had been with Jon and Theon, that she had never had this sort of relationship with Robb, but it felt so right now. So much had changed. The sibling pulled back slightly, Robb placing his rough and callused hands on her wet cheeks. His thumbs swiped away her tears as he smiled at her.

"Look at you. You're here." He said softly.

"Robb." Arya cried, managing to work her way between the two and jump up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He caught her easily, hugging her tight as she talked a mile a minute.

"Sansa?" Catelyn called. Sansa turned to see her mother holding her arms out to her. Sansa gladly folded into her mother's embrace. Sansa smiled as she felt her mother kiss her forehead. Behind her she heard Carn yell out, having spotted his brother and father, making her smile grow.

"How are you three here?" Robb asked, looking over to Sansa as he placed Arya down.

"It's a long story." Sansa said tiredly as Jon came up to join them. Sansa stepped back to stand with her brother, glancing between her mother and half-brother. She was surprised, yet pleased, to see that her mother did not glare at him coldly as she used to, although she did not offer him any warmth either.

"One we can help you tell." Jon assured her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He offered Sansa the journal who took it and hugged it to her chest. She looked to Robb to see him staring at the book.

"Where is Gwyn?" He demanded softly, his intense gaze meeting hers. She flinched and looked down before holding the journal out to him with both hands. He gingerly took it, running a hand down the broken binding.

"There is much to discuss." Jon said softly. "This is a story best told in private."

Robb did not look up from the journal. He nodded stiffly before turning on his heel and disappearing back into his tent, leaving his family to follow.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 **Edited 1/17/17**

 **A/N: This chapter has excerpts from Gwyn's journal. They are not full entries, and they are not all of her entries. They are a small sampling.**

Robb stared stonily at the flame of the candle closest to him. He was alone, his family having left him hours ago. The girls and Carn had told him all that had happened since Ned Stark's beheading, with a little help from Theon and Jon. Immediately after their departure from his tent he had set to reading Gwyn's journal. As he read his heart ached for his wayward wife, not knowing what had become of her after her fall from her horse. Though it had been some time since he started reading he had not gotten far, the journal open to a page about two weeks into the entries. He lowered his gaze to the page once more, reading it for the fifth time.

 _Robb,_

 _I know when you read this you will be angry with me for not turning back now and returning to Winterfell. I could. We are only a fortnight's journey from home, but I cannot. I hope you can understand why. Your father asked me to come South for a reason. Arya and Sansa need me. They are my sisters now. I cannot abandon them._

 _I wasn't going to write this, but Carn thinks I should. But what if someone found this journal? I thought about sending a raven, but there was no telling if anyone from the King's camp would intercept it. I do not trust these people. We are not so far from home and yet it feels like an entirely different world._

 _I know you wish me to stop stalling, but I must say again how much I hope you understand my not coming home. I love you so much Robb, please forgive me._

 _I am pregnant._

 _Gwyn_

Robb quickly looked away from the journal. It felt like snakes were twisting in his stomach. In the long conversation he had had with his siblings no one had mentioned that Gwyn was pregnant. Now he really understood the guilt that Carn had looked at him with. He had thought it was for leaving Gwyn behind. Grudgingly, Robb had agreed that Carn was right in listening to Gwyn, although he hated it with a fiery passion. Deep within himself he knew he would have never left her behind. He would have fought to the death for her. But he understood Carn's explanation for it. Gwyn had ordered him to go. She had made it his priority to take the girls and get out of King's Landing.

But even still Robb was filled with anger. He jumped to his feet, his chair flying to the ground behind him. He paced back and forth beside the table a few times before swiping everything off the surface with his arm in a fit of rage. He felt tears prick his eyes as he clenched his hair with two tight fists. His wife was a prisoner of the South. Or so they thought. It could be worse. She could be…

He couldn't finish that thought.

And the baby. The baby. She was pregnant with his child. Or was she? Was she still pregnant? His mind raced with horror filled thought after horror filled thought. Couldn't falls hurt a baby still in the womb? Did her fall from the horse harm the child? Or did it survive with her? What if a Lannister or one of their men had down something to the baby?

A vision of a bloodied and glinting knife filled his mind. Robb collapsed to his knees, leaning forward until his face was in the dirt of the natural floor of his tent. He bit his lip as sobs tried to rip from his throat, tears streaming out of his eyes and making the earth he hid in muddy. Was this what Gwyn felt when she experienced an anxiety attack, he wondered?

It took him what felt like hours to calm himself. He imagined his wife here with him, kneeling beside him. Her voice low and soothing, a comforting hand running up and down his tense back. Slowly, Robb sat up on his knees, looking about at the minor destruction he had caused. The candle he had been reading by was out and lying on it's side on the ground. The dirty dishes from his supper were strewn about the ground intermixed with books, documents, and maps. Gwyn's journal had landed the farthest away. He stood and tread through the mess to wear it had landed near his bed. It was open, pages down, some of the pages bent and twisted. He gently picked it up and righted the pages as best he could, Gwyn's writing now crinkled.

He sighed heavily as he placed it on his bed before starting to undress for the night. Once he was stripped down to his underclothes he climbed under the covers, not bothering with putting on sleep clothes or blowing out the rest of the candles. He took up the journal once more, gingerly opening it to the spot he had been in. He continued on with the next new passage. He read for hours, sleep eluding him.

* * *

 _Forgive me. You must already be so angry with me. But I must break my promise to you. Your father has asked me not to write you about the baby. He has asked me and Carn to keep it to ourselves. We cannot even tell Sansa and Arya. Father is worried for my safety should anyone here find out about the baby. He has assigned Carn to be my personal guard. Carn has sworn himself to me, promised to protect me and heed all that I say. I hope you can forgive me Robb. Please don't hate me..._

* * *

 _You wouldn't believe the people I have met in King's Landing. Some of them are truly incredible. One has given me a beautiful tattoo that wraps around my forearm. I'm not sure you would approve, but you know I've never been one to listen. It's so special. It represents my warrior heritage as the daughter of a spearwife. If I still loved amongst the free folk I would no doubt have more than just one. Have I ever told you about that before. Tattoos are a common thing for the free folk. Remind me to tell you about it sometime..._

 _Your letter of Bran's awakening reached us today. I'm so happy my heart could burst. I don't know what I would have done if he had passed. I hope you have given him my love. I do wish he could have come with us. The girls are starting to settle into the South, and I think he would have enjoyed himself here as they are._

 _As to your other letter. I miss you so much. My body yearns for yours. Every moment we are apart is torture. At night I find myself thinking of you and wishing you were here. I imagine it is your hand touching me when it is really my own. I am counting down the days until I can see you again..._

* * *

 _Arya went missing today. I was so worried for her. I paced the sitting area in the Hand's Tower for hours. That girl drives me mad at times, but I do so love her. She eventually showed up, dirty as could be. She said she got lost chasing cats around the Keep. Silly girl…_

* * *

 _Is your Mother insane? What possessed her to take Tyrion Lannister hostage? In the last few months, the things she has said and done, have made me question whether I truly know her at all._

 _In light of what has happened Father has told us to pack our things. He wants to leave…_

* * *

 _Last night Father was attacked in the streets of King's Landing by Jaime Lannister and his men. Part of me blames your Mother and her insanity with Tyrion. The other part of me feels like this was a long time coming. Things don't feel right here in the South. I am unashamed to say I am fearful. Winter is coming, Robb..._

* * *

 _The King is dead. They have arrested Father. We should have left when we had the chance. They came for all of us. Carn and I got Arya out of the Keep. She is staying with my Southern maidservant Pym and her husband Calvin. They have to be some of the only Southerners I trust. I know no harm will befall her while she is in their care._

* * *

 _Robb, we received word today that you were seen marching near the Twins, and that our brother Jon is with you. Why has he left the wall? I hope the Gods have heard my prayers to keep you all safe._

 _Father is dead._

 _We cannot stay here._

 _I'm getting the girls out of King's Landing tonight. I will see you soon. I love you so much Robb._

* * *

Robb rubbed at his eyes as he closed the mostly full journal. Through his closed lids he could just barely make out the grey light of dawn. He had stayed up all night reading her journal. Her last entry haunted him. It was her shortest entry to date. She hadn't had the time to write fully about the execution, or her plan to get the girls out. But she had made time to tell him she loved him one last time, and that she would see him soon. Robb swallowed audibly as his eyes pricked with tears for what felt like the hundredth time. He rolled onto his side, keeping his eyes closed. He cradled her journal to his chest as he quietly began to cry.

Robb rubbed tiredly at his eyes as he exited his tent. He had not slept a wink, too involved in reading Gwyn's journal. Suddenly, the high pitched sound of a child's laugh cut through the sounds of the camp waking up. Robb looked about, spotting Carn chasing after a giggling Arya. He smiled as he watched his sister. Though Gwyn had not made it out of King's Landing with them he felt a bit better having his sister's back. He observed Arya's short hair as she ran past him. She had complained about it at length the previous day. She had apparently only cut her hair the day before arriving in camp and felt it was a waste. She had sworn to get back at Carn for it, even though Sansa had cut her hair, as it was his idea.

"Good Morning, _Sire_." Carn called teasingly as he followed Arya. Robb nodded at him. He had always liked Carn, they had always been decent friends. But at the moment he still felt a little angry with him for leaving Gwyn behind. He found he had to keep reminding himself why it was a good thing. He knew if Gwyn were here she would attempt to beat him senseless for being angry.

Robb turned and made for his mother's tent. A Stark soldier stood guard outside of her tent. He bowed to Robb as he entered the tent. Inside, his mother and Sansa sat at the table, both already dressed for the day, breaking their fast together. He walked over to Sansa and leaned down to kiss her cheek, one of his hand coming up to rest on the back of her head. She smiled up at him as he ran a hand over her long black hair.

"Your hair." He murmured.

"I know." She sighed. "It will wash out eventually." She said. He nodded. His sisters had been gone nearly three months and they came back to him looking like strangers. Robb took a seat beside Sansa and leaned forward on his elbows as he stared at her.

"What?" She asked, not meeting his eyes as she continued to eat.

"Why did none of you mention that my wife is pregnant?" Robb asked.

"What?" Catelyn demanded, staring wide-eyed at Robb. He raised his brow at his sister.

"You didn't tell mother either? Why did you let me read it in the journal?" He asked. Sansa sighed, placing down her fork. She glanced from Catelyn to Robb, both staring expectantly at her.

"I thought you should hear it from Gwyn." Sansa finally said. Robb sat back in his chair, his heart breaking just a little bit more. Catelyn covered her mouth, her eyes glassy with tears as she looked at her son.

"Robb." Catelyn said quietly.

"I'm sorry." Sansa whispered. Robb looked at his sister, shaking his head.

"No." He said, taking her hand. "I understand." He said. Sansa looked up at him. He could see her worry mounting.

"What are we going to do Robb? She's already been in the capitol for two weeks on her own. She can't stay there." Sansa insisted.

"We shall think of something." Robb said reassuringly. "She will be rescued from King's Landing, even if I have to do it myself."

 **A/N: We will finally get to Gwyn next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Taken down, reworked, and reposted 7/12/17**

Chapter Four

A hush fell over the small council chambers as Tyrion Lannister walked in, happily whistling the Rains of Castamere.

"Don't get up." He called, a smile playing about his lips. He waltzed up to Cersei and kissed her on the cheek. She gave him a withering look as he spoke. "More ravishing than ever, big sister." Cersei eyed him as he rounded the table. "War agrees with you. Forgive the interruption. Carry on." He said.

"What are you doing here?" Cersei asked, raising a brow as he walked to the opposite end of the table and sat down in the only open seat, the Hand of the King's seat.

"Ah, it's been a remarkable journey." Tyrion said as he began to fill a glass with wine. "I pissed off the edge of the wall, I slept in a sky cell, I fought with the hill tribes...so many adventures, so much to be thankful for."

" _What_ are you doing _here_? This is the small council." Cersei demanded, having enough of her brother's games.

"Yes. Well I do believe the Hand of the King is welcome at all small council meetings." Tyrion said, putting on an air of confusion.

"Our father is Hand of the King." Cersei said softly, her eyes narrowing.

"Yes, but in his absence..." Tyrion said digging out a scroll and handing it to Lord Varys, who opened it and read it quickly.

"Your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as Hand in his stead while he fights." Lord Varys said, making Cersei scoff. Suddenly she was on her feet, yelling at the men.

"Out! All of you out!" She yelled. All of the council members, save Tyrion, immediately stood. They bowed to Cersei before leaving the room. Tyrion cocked his head to the side as he watched his older sister round the table.

"I would like to know how you tricked father into this." Cersei demanded.

"If I were capable of tricking father, I'd be emperor of the world by now. You brought this on yourself." He told her pointedly as she sat down next to him.

"I have done nothing." She insisted.

"Quite right. You did nothing when your son called for Ned Stark's head. You did nothing when your son took Robb Stark's pregnant wife and one of his sister's captive while losing the other. Your son has lost the sister's, amongst them his betrothed, and has kept the injured Lady Stark locked away. Now the entire North has risen up against us." Tyrion lectured.

"I tried to stop the beheading." Cersei hissed, ignoring the rest of Tyrion's diatribe.

"Did you? You failed." He snarked. "That bit of theater will haunt our family for a generation." He said as he eyed her. "No words for the rest of it?" He demanded. Cersei eyed him back.

"What would you have me say?" She asked him. "My son could not marry Sansa Stark, but he could not let her, or her sister's, go." Cersei said.

"Yes, and you all have done a splendid job of keeping them." Tyrion drawled. "I have had word that they were seen traveling with the Stark war camp, and that the _King in the North_ has a renewed hunger for war. He has sworn to take Joffrey's head in repayment for his father's and the harm that has come to his wife." Cersei rolled her eyes at what she deemed her younger brother's dramatics.

"Robb Stark is a child." Cersei laughed out.

"Who's won every battle he's fought." Tyrion cut over her. "Do you understand we're losing the war?" He asked.

"What do you know about warfare?" She asked.

"Nothing. But I know people. And I know that our enemies hate each other almost as much as they hate us." They sat in silence for a few moments, looking upon one another. Finally Cersei spoke.

"Joffrey is King." She said quietly.

"Joffrey is King." Tyrion repeated.

"You are here to advise him." She said.

"I am only here to advise him." He said. He paused thoughtfully. "And if the King listens to what I say, the King might just get his Uncle Jaime back."

"How?" Cersei demanded.

"You love your children. It's your one redeeming quality." He paused. "That and your cheekbones." He joked. Cersei couldn't help herself as a smile twitched at the corner of her lips.

"The Starks love their children as well." He continued.

"And we have none of them. No true born children. Just the wild one." Cersei said snidely. Tyrion shook his head ruefully.

"We had more. But you chopped one's head off and let the other's escape." He grinned at her. "Father will be furious." He said laughingly. "It must be odd for you...to be the disappointing child." He taunted her. Cersei scoffed, looking away. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Cersei slowly looked back over at Tyrion, she could practically hear his brain working, racing through their options.

"I do believe," he started slowly, "the Wild Queen, as the Northerner's are calling her, is very much considered a child of house Stark. I have been told she called Ned Stark father. But even if this was not the case, she is the wife of the current Lord Stark, and carries his babe. She possibly even carries his _heir_." He said.

"She could be a very useful piece in this game." Tyrion said. Cersei nodded along to what he was saying. She would be loath to admit it, but her brother was right. Perhaps it was time she paid the young Lady Stark a visit.

* * *

Pym nodded at the other servants as she passed through the halls of the Red Keep, a cordial smile on her face. In her arms she carried a small breakfast of bread and apples, balanced on a basket of clean laundry and linens. She stopped outside a small room housed towards the back of the Keep, the room's view overlooking the docks. Stationed outside the room at all times was a Red Keep Guard.

"Good morning, Pym." Ser Pellion said softly. She gave him a small smile.

"Good morning, Ser." She said. "Do you know, is she awake?" She asked. He sighed.

"I checked in on her. She was staring at the ceiling again." He said. Pym nodded, a deep frown marring her face. Ser Pellion was one of the few guards in King's Landing who still liked Lady Gwynyth Stark, and was kind to her. He opened the door for Pym, nodding her into the room. Pym stepped inside, Ser Pellion closing the door firmly behind her. She felt her heart break once again as she took in the tableau in front of her.

Gwyn was laid on her back in the small bed, propped up by a couple of pillows. Her long dark hair, once shiny and beautiful in its wild nature, was a dull, stringy nest. Her honey eyes stared blankly up at the red stone of the room's ceiling. The white sleep dress she wore was stained and wrinkled. Her pale arms laid lifelessly on either side of her rounded stomach. She was five months pregnant. Pym had thought for sure when the guards had brought Gwyn back to the Keep after her escape that they would lose the baby. The guards had said she had started bleeding vaginally on their way back to the palace. By the time they reached the Keep she was covered in blood. Grand Maester Pycelle and the lower order of Maesters had worked on Gwyn for hours. They had managed to save her and the child, but it had been touch and go for the first few days, Pycelle having done all he could for her.

Since then Gwyn had experienced chronic pain in her back from the fall, and in her shoulder where an arrow had punched through her back to her front. Her pain kept her abed. She was cold, unfeeling, and almost completely unresponsive. Pym had gotten her to speak a couple of times, getting a yes or no out of her, but that was it.

"Morning, my lady." Pym greeted cheerily, trying to rouse any kind of response from the prone woman. Gwyn didn't even bat a lash. Pym set her basket on the floor by the bed and picked up the small plate of food. "You should eat, my lady." Pym said, leaning over and placing the plate on the bedside table. She picked up Gwyn's plate from dinner the previous night, barely any of the food eaten. Pym sighed as she eyed Gwyn. "If you do not eat you will harm the baby." She said sternly.

Slowly Gwyn turned her head, her dead eyes fixed on Pym. Pym felt her chest constrict in surprise and excitement as Gwyn's mouth opened.

"What is the point?" Gwyn rasped out, her speech slow and pained.

"My lady?" Pym gasped out. She had never heard Gwyn speak so. Pym sat down at Gwyn's hip and took up one of her hands in her own.

"I am never going to get out of here alive. And my baby will be taken from me." She said. Pym felt her heart break. This was the most Gwyn had spoken in two weeks and it was to say such horrible things.

"Why do you say that?" Pym asked. Gwyn sighed. She stayed silent for a few moments.

"The Queen came to see me last night." Gwyn said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Tell me. Tell me what happened." Pym said urgently. Gwyn nodded, closing her eyes as she recounted her meeting with Cersei.

 _Cersei observed Gwyn as she laid listlessly in the bed. She cocked her head, a slight smile gracing her gorgeously cold face. She felt a certain amount of satisfaction at seeing the usually strong young woman so broken. There was a chair near the side of the bed. She noticed a basket of sewing sitting beside it. Cersei raised a brow, assuming the basket belonged to the maidservant that tended to Gwyn. She glided to the chair and sat down on it before looking back to Gwyn. She scoffed quietly, making Gwyn flinch._

" _Oh come now darling." Cersei said. Gwyn's brows furrowed as she slowly turned her head to look at the Queen Mother. Cersei gave her a snake like smile as their eyes met. "Maester Pycelle tells me you passed his last inspection. I know you are still pained, but you are healing nicely. Why are you moping in bed?" Cersei asked. Her tone was genial and warm, but her eyes spoke otherwise._

 _Gwyn merely stared at the Queen Mother not willing to spit out the venomous words rolling through her head. Cersei raised her brow, giving her a goading look, like she knew what it was Gwyn wanted to say. But she didn't press the matter._

" _My son," Cersei started, casually brushing an imaginary piece of lint off her dress, "the King, has spoken at length about you of late." She said. "He is rather cross, shall we say, that you have stolen his bride away from him."_

" _He killed my father." Gwyn said slowly, turning her head back towards the ceiling, keeping her eyes fixed on the stones above her. Gwyn could feel Cersei staring at her. "It is only fair." Gwyn said. Cersei began chuckling lowly, forcing Gwyn to look at her in confusion._

" _Oh darling." Cersei sighed humorously. "There is no such thing as fair. You do what you want when you want, fair be damned, because in this game of thrones you win or you die. That is it." Cersei said, giving Gwyn a rather pointed look. "Getting your sister's out of King's Landing, you won that battle. But we will win the war." She said, her voice cold and cruel._

 _"My husband has won quite a few battles." Gwyn rasped, thinking of the news Pym continuously whispered in her ear. She looked to Cersei to see the woman had a displeased and pinched look on her face. Gwyn felt a bit of internal satisfaction._

 _"As I told my younger brother earlier today upon his return. Your husband is a child." Cersei said lowly as she eyed Gwyn. "Tell me, do you know what they are calling your husband?" She asked. Gwyn mutely shook her head._

 _"King in the North." Cersei practically whispered. Gwyn raised a brow at the title. A few jokes momentarily flitted through her weary mind, jokes she would throw at Robb had he been there. Those thoughts quickly vanished, replaced by a horrible sense of longing._

 _"And would you like to know what they are calling you?" Cersei asked, bringing Gwyn out of her morose reverie. Cersei paused, staring Gwyn down. "The Wild Queen." She hissed. Gwyn felt her stomach twist nervously as she emotionlessly stared the Queen Mother down. Cersei stood, looking imperiously down at Gwyn's prone form._

 _"You are no Queen. And your boy husband is no King. My son is King." Cersei said._

 _"If my husband is a boy, your son is an infant. A baby." Gwyn said, unable to stop herself. She immediately felt like slapping herself as Cersei's eyes pierced Gwyn with their gaze before sliding down to stare at her stomach. Cersei leaned forward and placed a hand on the peak of Gwyn's stomach, a smile playing at her lips._

 _"My son is hardly a baby." She hissed. "Raising a baby to a man," Cersei whispered as she gently rubbed Gwyn's stomach, " is such a joy." Cersei said. Suddenly she was pressing down on Gwyn's stomach. Gwyn could feel the baby twitching within her at the pressure. "It would be such a shame if you were not able to enjoy it as I have." Gwyn's mouth and throat went dry at the thinly veiled threat._

 _"Fear not darling." Cersei said, finally lifting her hand. "Your baby will never want for anything." With a last narrow eyed smile Cersei swept from the room, the door slamming shut behind her._

 _The resounding echo rattled around Gwyn's shocked brain. She laid there frozen, staring at the door. Gwyn sat up in bed, a dull pain radiating up from the bottom of her spine and through her right shoulder. She was breathing heavily. She could feel her chest constricting and a pressure building in her skull. She let out a low moan as she began to cry, her panic attack taking over._

Pym stared at Gwyn, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging slightly open. She watched as silent tears started to pour down the younger woman's face. Pym squeezed Gwyn's hand.

"This will not happen, my lady. I will not allow it." Pym said softly.

"And what in seven hells can you do?" Gwyn snapped. Pym sighed softly. She didn't take it personally. Gwyn had been devastated by the events of the last couple of weeks, and rightfully so. But she needed to snap out of it, for her and the baby's sake. Pym steeled herself, building up her courage.

"That is enough." Pym said sternly. Gwyn froze, staring at her in surprise. "Enough moping. You are a strong Stark woman. You have been in battles before and come out the other side the victor. You are a fierce spear wife. Fight." Pym cried. Gwyn stared at her. "What would your Lord husband think if he heard you talking in such a way?" Pym demanded. Gwyn turned her head to stare at the ceiling as fresh tears began to pour down her cheeks once more. An inhuman sob ripped from her chest, echoing around the room. She covered her mouth with her free hand, while squeezing Pym's with her other.

"Oh Gods, Pym. He would be heartbroken. He would be angry." She gasped. Pym squeezed her hand back. "What do I do?" Gwyn asked. Pym thought for a moment. Slowly, an idea came to her, causing her to smile excitedly.

"Hush now, my lady. It will be alright." Pym said. Gwyn looked at her, seeing the smile.

"What?" Gwyn asked.

"I think I've got an idea." Pym said releasing her hand and leaning over to pick up the tray of food she had brought Gwyn. "Now here. Eat. Rest. You will need it." She said, holding it out. "And once you are done we shall clean you up. I dare say you will feel a mite better." Gwyn bit her lip as she picked up an apple, the baby writhing inside her as her nerves grew.

* * *

Robb was stoic as he walked through camp, Grey Wind walking in front of him.

"Your Grace." One of his soldiers greeted as he reached the makeshift prison. Robb nodded at him as he opened the door. Grey Wind led Robb inside, the animal eyeing the dirty hunched man leaning against the opposite wall.

"King in the North." Jaime Lannister drawled. "I keep expecting you to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping, but you drag me along from camp to camp." He said. He gave Robb a sly smile, squinting slightly at him as he cocked his head to the side. "Have you grown fond of me Stark, is that it? I haven't seen you with a girl in camp. Most men take on wartime mistresses. I'm sure your wife wouldn't mind." Jaime goaded. Robb clenched his fists, which were luckily hidden by his cloak. He willed himself to stay calm as images of his smiling wife filled his mind.

"I don't think you know my wife very well then." Robb said seriously. Jaime smirked.

"Well enough. We spent quite a bit of time together on the King's Road, your wife and I." Jaime laughed. Robb bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, in an effort to keep from lashing out.

"If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight and my bannerman would receive a raven with a message: 'Release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your house will be destroyed, root and stem.'" Robb said seriously, ignoring Jaime's jab. Jaime gave him a searching look.

"You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you into battle?" He asked.

"Oh, I trust them with my life," Robb assured him, nodding, "just not yours."

"Smart boy." Jaime said, nodding as well. Robb narrowed his eyes at him. "What's wrong?" Jaime asked, cocking his head to the side. "Don't like being called boy? Insulted?" Jaime said, pretending to pout. Robb didn't respond right away, his eyes drifting to Grey Wind, who had left the enclosure and was pacing around the outside, growling and breathing loudly. Jaime turned his head to look, a nervous expression coming over his face.

"You insult yourself, Kingslayer. You've been defeated by a boy. You're held captive by a boy. Perhaps you'll be killed by a boy." Robb said lowly over Grey Wind's growls. Jaime's head slowly turned as he watched Grey Wind stalk around his cage. Grey Wind entered the enclosure once more. Panting and growling as he stood at Robb's side.

"Stannis Baratheon sent ravens to all the high lords of Westeros. King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true king nor a true Baratheon." Robb said. Jaime swallowed heavily as he looked up at the King in the North. "He's your bastard son."

"If that's true, Stannis is the rightful King." Jaime said, giving Robb an inquisitive look. "How convenient for him."

"My father learned the truth. That's why you had him executed." Robb said as he stroked Grey Wind's back.

"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head."

"Your son killed him so the world wouldn't learn who fathered him." Robb said, glaring at Jaime. "And you? You pushed my brother from a window because he saw you with the queen." Robb's hand clenched in Grey Wind's fur, the wolf responding to his master's tension by lowering his head to stare directly into Jaime's eyes. Jaime looked between Grey Wind and Robb for a moment.

"You have proof? Or do you want to trade gossip like a couple of fishwives?" Jaime snarked.

"I'm sending one of your cousins down to King's Landing with my peace terms." Robb told him, ignoring his jab.

"You think my father's going to negotiate with you? You don't know him very well." Jaime said, shaking his head.

"No. But he's starting to know me." Robb said, the smallest hint of a smile playing about his lips.

"Three victories doesn't make you a conqueror." Jaime told him.

"It's better than three defeats." Robb said. He put pressure on Grey Wind's back, pushing him forward before turning to leave. Grey Wind stepped forward growling at Jaime before snapping at his face. Jaime turned his head to the side, breathing heavily and closing his eyes. Grey Wind backed up and followed his master, quickly catching up to Robb.

As Robb cut through camp Jon fell into step beside him. Robb glanced at his brother. His eyes were scanning their surroundings, taking in their men as they passed.

"How did it go?" Jon asked. They had hoped to get a confirmation from Jaime on Joffrey's parentage. Robb felt the information to be extremely important.

"Exactly how we thought." Robb muttered.

 **A/N: If you never read the original version of chapter four this note won't mean much. To those of you who read the original chapter you will notice Gwyn doesn't make her escape here at the end. I have a purpose and a plan, and will hopefully be posting to this story again soon. Thank you all for waiting for so long.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Robb watched stoically as his bannermen filtered out of the war tent. He had just sent Alton Lannister away with his peace terms. Robb slowly rounded the table where Theon and Jon still sat. Theon was sipping wine from a goblet while Jon stared at nothing in particular, his expression pensive. Robb slowly walked over to the mouth of the tent looking out into the dark camp. Despite the late hour his men were still out and about, their voices and laughter drifting to him on the wind. Robb raised his eyes up to look at the night sky. The stars winked down at him, bright and beautiful. His mind was filled with the last time he had taken a moment to stargaze.

 _"When was the last time we did this?" Gwyn asked._

 _"I don't know. It's been a while." He said._

 _"We should look at the stars more often." She murmured._

 _"Aye, we should. You know we'd have a better vantage from higher up." Robb said teasingly._

 _"And you know I won't be climbing up higher than this." She said as she rolled her eyes at the heavens. She hadn't gone for a climb since she broke her arm last year after a nasty fall off the stables._

 _"I think you should climb again. You used to love it." He said, looking at her. She kept looking up at the sky._

 _"You're mother was right, it's too dangerous. And I'm getting too old to climb." She said._

 _"You're sixteen." He laughed, shaking his head. "That's hardly too old." He insisted._

 _"A lady doesn't climb trees and towers Robb."_

Robb felt a smile cross his face. That particular memory, the night of his seventeenth name day, was one of his favorites. It was the night he kissed Gwyn for the very first time. He could hardly believe it had been almost a year since then. His smile fell just as quickly as it had come as a picture of his wife's smiling face filled his mind's eye. His hands balled into fists as his jaw clenched. He would do everything in his power to bring her back to him. Anger burned in his chest as he thought of his wife trapped in King's Landing. Though, he had to admit to himself a part of him wasn't just angry with her situation, but at her as well. He had read and re-read her journal so many times since receiving it from Sansa. Gwyn had had chance after chance to come home, and yet she had stayed. Oh, he understood why she did what she did, but that didn't mean he accepted it.

"A word, Your Grace?" Theon said. Robb's head snapped to the side, eyes blazing as he looked upon his friend. He hadn't heard him get up from the table and come over, too wrapped up in thinking about his wife's choices. Theon recoiled slightly, raising a brow.

"You alright?" Theon asked as Jon walked over and joined them. Jon eyed his brother, taking in his stiff posture and tight expression. It took a considerable amount of effort but Robb managed to school his features, his face falling into his usual serious and stoic expression.

"I'm fine." He said, firmly. "You don't have to call me 'You're Grace' when no one's around, you know."

"It's not so bad once you get used to it." Jon muttered. Theon smirked shaking his head.

"Actually it's the worst." He drawled, making Robb smile, though he was loath to do so at the moment.

"Well, I'm glad someone's gotten used to it." Robb said, giving his brother a pointed look before turning back to Theon. "You wanted something, Theon?" He asked.

"The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, you know." Theon said.

"Of course they are." Robb said, looking back out to the camp. His eyes drifted from his men up to the stars. He couldn't help it.

"We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won't beat them until you take King's Landing. And we can't take King's Landing without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them." Theon said all of this rather quickly.

"Men who fought my father." Robb said, looking from the stars to Theon. Jon shifted beside Theon, crossing his arms. His dark eyes darted between the two, silently taking in what Theon was trying to propose.

"Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, just like you're doing now. I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me. I know he will. I'm not a Stark. I know that. But your father raised me to be an honorable man. We can avenge him together." Theon paused, looking to Jon. "The three of us." Robb looked to Jon as well to see his brother thinking hard, staring at the ground.

"Jon?" Robb asked. Jon lifted his eyes to meet Robb's steely blue gaze. Jon's lips thinned for a moment, considering what to say.

"I'm not sure getting into bed with Balon Greyjoy is our best move." Jon finally said, his words slow but deliberate. Theon shifted beside him, his mouth opening to respond with something snappy, no doubt. Jon lifted his hand, silencing him before he even spoke.

"You said yourself that Lord Stark is the one who raised you. You haven't seen, nor spoken to your father in nearly two decades. You were but a child when you were taken from him. I doubt he would even recognize you. How can you be so sure he would listen to your plea?" Jon asked. Theon looked down at the ground, his throat working over and over as he swallowed the emotions that were attempting to rise up out of him. Robb could see self doubt starting to cloud Theon's eyes as he thought over his proposal.

"Even so." Robb said, his voice low. "Theon has a point." He murmured. Jon and Theon looked at him, both a little surprised.

"Have you been drinking?" Theon asked. Robb gave him a sardonic smile as he shook his head.

"I also agree with Jon," he started, becoming serious once more, "your father may not be the best person to ally myself with. But he has the ships and men we need." Robb turned away from the two, looking back up to the stars once more. He took a deep breath as he stared up at their distant, hazy light.

"You will leave tomorrow, Theon." Robb said, quietly.

"Yes, Sire." Theon said. Robb shook his head, attempting not to smile.

"And Jon will go with you." Robb added. Jon raised his brows, but nodded.

"If you think it best." Jon said.

"I do." Robb affirmed. Jon nodded again.

"Then we should get some rest. We have a long journey ahead of us." Jon said as he patted Theon on the back. "Good night, Robb."

"Good night." Robb said, eyes still aimed at the sky. He felt, rather than saw, his brother and friend leave the tent, leaving him alone. It was rare that he was by himself these days. He was so often surrounded by his soldiers, his bannermen, his mother, Jon, or Theon. And now with his sister's in the camp they were constantly running about, attempting to drag him into their games and shenanigans. He didn't think he had ever seen Sansa so free. Despite what she had been through she seemed to be becoming closer and closer with Arya, taking on some of their youngest sister's more spirited qualities. The effects worked in the reverse as well, Arya seemingly taking on some of her sister's seriousness. It was good to see them like this. He just wished Gwyn was there to see it too.

Robb's jaw clenched tight as he pictured his wife: her wild black mane, her laughing honey eyes, her milky yet marred skin. He could practically feel her beside him, her small hands grazing over his tense shoulders and back. He desperately wanted her with him. He wanted to kiss her, and hold her, and never let her leave his sight again. Another part of him wished to throttle her. He shook his head, his face grim, as his eyes shifted from the stars to the moon. He stood still as a statue as he stared up at it, wondering if she could see it to.

* * *

Gwyn sighed as she sat in the window of her room, staring up at the night sky. One hand was braced on the stone beneath her, the other was gently rubbing circles into her swollen belly. She jumped as she felt something kick out against her hand. She looked down, moving her hand away from her belly. She felt the kick again, her skin moving a little. She gasped as she quickly placed both hands on her stomach, feeling her baby kicks for the first time. She let her head fall back against the stone behind her, closing her eyes, adamantly wishing Robb was with her to feel this.

But he wasn't.

Gwyn's eyes flickered open as tears started to drip down her cheeks. He wasn't here, and it was entirely her fault. Gwyn jumped out of the window as the door to her room opened, Pym stepping inside with a smile on her face. Her smile fell immediately upon seeing Gwyn crying.

"My lady?" She said, quickly closing the door behind her. "What is it?" Gwyn let out a watery laugh as Pym walked over to her. Once the maidservant reached her, Gwyn reached out and grabbed her hand, pressing it against her belly. Pym waited quietly for a moment, nothing happening. And then the baby kicked again. Pym's face lit up as she knelt down in front of her mistress, cupping her belly with both hands.

"Oh do that again, little one." Pym whispered. Gwyn laughed as the baby did as Pym said.

"She's a strong one." Pym said.

"She?" Gwyn asked. Pym shrugged as she stood, withdrawing her hands.

"I think it's a girl. Calvin thinks it's a boy." She said with a smile. Gwyn sighed, her expression falling.

"We shall see, won't we?" Gwyn said as she passed Pym and walked over to her vanity table. She sat down in front of it, meeting her own eyes in the mirror. Their once bright nature had dimmed over the last couple weeks. At one point her eyes had been her favorite feature. Now they looked like they belonged to someone else. Dull, wary, even hardened.

"My lady?" Pym asked, her voice soft as she came to stand behind where Gwyn sat.

"I just hope when the time comes to meet him or her it won't be in this retched room." Gwyn said as she ran a hand over her slightly sunken cheek, eyeing the new shadows she saw there. She had barely eaten, barely slept, barely gotten out of bed since her capture, and it had taken its toll. There were dark shadows under her eyes. There were hollows in her cheeks. Her skin was no longer a pretty porcelain, having turned sallow and translucent. Pym reached out and started to gently section off Gwyn's long dark hair. That was one thing, at least that had returned to normal. Pym had spent quite a bit of time brushing out the matted nest that Gwyn's hair had become. Pym began to braid Gwyn's hair back in a long plait.

"You won't be." Pym insisted. "Not if my idea pans out."

"And what is this idea of yours, Pym?" Gwyn asked. Against her better judgment, she could feel a tiny burgeoning grain of hope growing in her heart as Pym gave her a sly smile.

"I'd rather not say just yet. I'm still working out the details, my lady. Just know there are still people in King's Landing who think well of you." Pym said. Gwyn shook her head, a grim smile playing across her lips. It was hard for her to believe anyone could think well of her at the moment, and yet here Pym stood. Faithful as ever.

"Oh Pym." Gwyn breathed. "What would I do without you?" She asked. Pym giggled as she tied off Gwyn's braid.

"I think you would fare just fine." Pym said, placing her hands gently on Gwyn's shoulders.

"I seriously doubt that." Gwyn said, thinking of how Pym had snapped her out of her stupor earlier that day. Pym gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze before turning and walking away.

* * *

"You don't want Balon Greyjoy for an ally." Catelyn said as she handed Robb a cup of water. Robb was sitting in his mother's tent. He had just told her of his conversation with Theon and Jon.

"I need his ships. They say he has 200." Robb insisted as he watched his mother walk away.

"They say a million rats live in the sewers of King's Landing. Shall we rally them to fight for us?" She snapped as she moved to the water bucket again and started to ladle a cup full for herself.

"I understand you don't trust Lord Greyjoy." Robb said.

"I don't trust Lord Greyjoy because he is not trustworthy." She said, dropping the ladle into the bucket with a hard splash. She walked over and sat across from him, cradling her cup between her hands.

"Your father had to go to war to end his rebellion." She hissed.

"Yes. And now I'm the one rebelling against the throne. Before me, it was father. You married one rebel and mothered another." Robb said, holding his mother's gaze. _You even allowed me to marry one._ Robb thought to himself, thinking of Gwyn breaking his sisters out of King's Landing.

"I mothered more than just rebels, a fact you seem to have forgotten." She accused as she stood and turned her back on him. She walked about the tent as she spoke, collecting her belongings as she went.

"Bran and Rickon are alone and mostly unprotected at Winterfell." She said. "And my daughter, your wife, is held captive in King's Landing, my unborn grandchild with her." Robb's eyes narrowed at the mention of Gwyn.

"You don't think I want to get her back?" He hissed.

"You have made no move to do so." She said, lifting her chin. "You have Jaime Lannister." She started to say but he cut her off.

"If I trade the Kingslayer for one girl my bannermen will string me up by my feet." Even as he said it he wished he could take it back, though he knew it to be true.

"One girl?" Catelyn breathed in disbelief. "You want to leave Gwynyth, the Queen in the North, in Cersei Lannister's hands? And the baby. We've not heard a word about the baby. What are we fighting for if not for them?" Catelyn demanded, completely irate. Robb's heart clenched painfully.

"It's more complicated than that. You know it is." He yelled as he stared down his mother. Cat looked back, seemingly deflating in the silence that followed. Slowly, she walked back over to him and sat down, letting out a world weary sigh.

"I think it is time for me to go home." She finally said. "I haven't see Bran or Rickon in months."

"You can't go to Winterfell." He said, his face and expression once more serious after his outburst.

"I beg your pardon?" Catelyn asked, her mouth falling open.

"I'll send Rodrik to watch over the boys, 'cause tomorrow you'll ride south to the Stormlands." He told her.

"Why in the name of all the Gods," she started to say.

"Because I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon. He's rallied an army of 100,000. You know him. You know his family." Robb said as he stood and paced about her tent.

"I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy. You have a hundred lords at your disposal." She said, standing as well, watching him pace.

"Which of these lords do I trust more than you?" He asked, coming to a stop in front of her. "If Renly sides with us, we'll outnumber them two to one. With Renly and Balon's forces we will march on King's Landing if we have to." He said, forcefully. "When they feel the jaws begin to shut, they'll sue for peace. I'll get Gwyn back. Then we'll all go home for good, where I will never let her leave my side again." Robb's eyes were blazing as he looked at his mother. She had never seen him so determined, so fierce. Slowly, she nodded.

"I will ride at first light." She said quietly. Robb stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his mother's forehead, pulling her into a tight embrace. Catelyn hugged him back, laying her head on his shoulder.

"We will all be together again soon. I promise." Robb said, quietly. Pulling back after a few moments.

"You've done so well." She said as he headed towards the mouth of her tent. "Your father would be proud." She claimed, giving him pause. He stopped in the opening of her tent, looking back at her, emotion swirling in his stormy blue eyes. _Would he?_ Robb wondered.

"Give Lord Renly my regards." He said, skirting her comment altogether.

"King Renly." She corrected him. "There's a king in every corner now." She said with a grimace. Robb nodded once before turning and leaving her tent. He could feel her worried gaze borrowing into the back of his head, but he ignored it, marching resolutely forward, heading for his own tent for the night.

* * *

A few days later

 _Gwyn was running, jumping over the bodies that littered the battle field. Her bare feet and torn dress were covered in blood and mud. As she ran by them, wounded soldiers reached out and tried to grab her from where they lay on the ground. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it might burst from her chest._

 _"Robb." She screamed as she skidded to a halt, her head whipping in every direction, trying to find her husband. The clanging of swords caught her attention. She looked forward to see a dueling pair that hadn't been there before. Robb and Jaime Lannister were fiercely fighting one another, steel glinting through the air. She let out a terrified scream as Jaime knocked Robb to the ground. She started running towards them but something rammed into her back. She flew forward, falling onto her pregnant belly. She let out a scream of pain, drawing Robb's attention. He looked towards her, terror in his eyes as he reached for her. She reached out a hand for him just as Jaime shoved his sword through his stomach. Blood started to pour from Robb's mouth, his eyes wide._

 _"No." Gwyn yelled as she was flipped onto her back. Cersei stood over her, a long glinting knife in her hand._

 _"Don't worry, darling. Your baby will never want for anything." Cersei mused before raising the knife above her head._

 _"Please, no." Gwyn sobbed as Cersei brought the knife down on her swollen stomach._

"No." Gwyn cried as she jerked awake. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, she felt as if she had gone deaf, her mouth had gone dry, and the baby was kicking wildly in her stomach. "No." She breathed as tears poured down the sides of her head and into her hair. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling as the remnants of her dream slowly left her. She squeezed her eyes shut, images of Jaime's sword running Robb through, and Cersei's knife swinging towards her pregnant stomach flashing through her mind. Gwyn took deep steadying breaths, forcing these thoughts away. Eventually her heart slowed to a normal pace, and her hearing came back to her.

This wasn't the first time she had had a nightmare like this, and it wouldn't be the last. She had no doubt that she had dreamt, in particular, about Jaime and Cersei because of the rumors that Pym had been whispering to her. According to her maidservant, the gossip in the Blackwater Pub was that Jaime was the father of Cersei's children. This was something, looking back at her travels to the south, that Gwyn could actually see being true. The other rumor that was floating around the pub was a little more sinister than the Lannister twin's incest.

Jaime pushed Bran from the broken tower. Just the very thought made Gwyn's blood boil. Again, when she thought about it everything made sense. Jaime hadn't gone on the hunt that day, and he had been there right after the fall. She had discussed the possibility of Cersei being involved with Ned, what felt like years ago. Catelyn had found a long blonde hair in the Broken Tower. And if Cersei was there, Jaime was more than likely there as well. Robb had been right. Bran had never fallen before while climbing. He must have seen Cersei and Jaime together and was pushed from the tower because of it.

Gwyn bit her lip, keeping her eyes shut as her anger pulsed through her at the thought of Jaime. She had trusted him. She had befriended him, and all against Robb's wishes. Just another thing to add to the list of wrongs she had committed against her husband. Her hand balled into tight fists, her nails biting into the skin of her palms. She clenched her fists tighter, the pain quickly clearing her head. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her body relaxing some, though her hands stayed balled.

Gwyn rolled over in bed and opened her eyes. Her room was flooded with early morning light. She could hear birds singing to one another. She sat up in bed, her back and right shoulder aching terribly. She hadn't noticed while she had been distracted by, first, the dream and then Jaime and Cersei. She swung her legs off the side of the bed, sitting on the edge. She let her fists rest on top of her rounded belly. She flipped them over and slowly let them open. Small crescent shaped cuts seemed to smile up at her from her palms.

She let out a sigh as she flipped her hands back over, gently rubbing her belly for a few moments. She felt the baby shift within her. It calmed her. She pushed herself up off the bed and shuffled across the room to her vanity table, looking in the mirror, rubbing her hands over the spots in her shoulder and back where her pain was pulsing from. Physically, she hadn't been the same since her attempted escape. The arrow that had punched through her back and to her front had left an ugly red mess on her skin. Gwyn carefully pulled her sleep dress over her head, leaving her naked as she surveyed the wound from the front. It was red and raw looking, tight black stitches holding it all together. She turned slowly, trying to get a look at the back of the wound. It looked much the same. Her eyes drifted further down her bare back, taking in the patchwork of green and yellow crisscrossing her skin. The bruise she had gotten from the fall was finally healing up, but it still hurt. She feared she may have hurt something further below the surface, but there was no way to tell.

She turned back around, her eyes darting over her naked form. Though her belly was swollen the rest of her had thinned out quite a bit. Her scars, old and new, stood out against her pale sickly skin. Gwyn sniffed, turning her head away from her mirror. She walked over to the basket of clean clothes Pym had left her, pain stabbing at her with every step. It was always like this in the mornings. As the day wore on she would no doubt loosen up some, the pain subsiding a bit. Gwyn swept up the basket and carried it over to the bed, digging through it. She hadn't really changed out of her sleepwear since being captured. Southern dress after southern dress met her eye as she rifled through the clothes. She selected one at random, choosing a flowy midnight blue number. It was Robb's favorite color on her.

Gwyn bit her lip, freezing in place at the thought of Robb. Images of him with blood dripping out of his mouth, eyes wide with shock rose in her mind. She physically shook herself, pushing these thoughts away. She pulled on her dress, smoothing it over her body. She walked back over to her vanity and sat down, proceeding to brush out her long dark hair before braiding it over her shoulder. She jumped as her door burst open and two members of the King's Guard stomped in.

"On your feet." One ordered as he walked over and grabbed her arm, ripping her from her chair. He dragged her over to the other guard, who grabbed her free arm.

"Where are you taking me?" She demanded as they dragged her from her room. It was the first time she had been outside it since she was captured. She could see Pym coming down the hall, Gwyn's breakfast in her hands. The maidservants eyes widened in shock as Gwyn was dragged past her. Gwyn's naked feet slapped against the hard stone floor as she tried to keep pace with the guards.

"The Queen would like a word, Lady Stark."

The guards dragged Gwyn all the way to the small council chambers. Though she had explored the castle in depth with Carn, this was one room she had never been in. The guards pulled her to a stop in front of a long table. At one end sat Cersei, on the opposite end sat Tyrion. Gwyn raised a brow when she saw he had the hand of the King badge pinned to his chest. He threw her a warm smile as he filled a goblet with wine.

"Do you like it?" He asked, referring to the badge. "It's new." He joked.

"Careful Lord Tyrion." Gwyn warned quietly. "The men who wear that badge don't wear it for long." Tyrion raised a brow as he took a sip of wine.

"Don't worry yourself on my account, my lady." He said.

"I'm not." She said, staring him down. Tyrion gave her a side eyed look, a small smile playing about his lips. Gwyn's gaze was dragged away from the youngest Lannister when Cersei chuckled. She looked to the Queen Regent, lounging in her chair, regal as ever.

"Come, darling." She said. "Sit." She gestured to a chair that was in the center of the table. Gwyn went to step forward, but the guards still had a hold of her.

"I can't very well sit if you don't let me go." She hissed at the guards. They immediately released her, revealing the bruising hand prints they had left on her biceps. Gwyn placed a hand on her stomach as she walked over to her seat and sat down.

"Look at the state of her arms. You will be more careful with her from now on." Tyrion chastised the guards.

"Yes, my lord." One of the guards said.

"Away with you." Tyrion drawled, waving a hand at them. The guards left the room, leaving Gwyn with the siblings.

"How are you, darling?" Cersei breathed, a vision of concern. Gwyn merely looked at her, silent as she rubbed at her stomach. "I'm glad to see you up and about. You're looking much better than last I saw you." Cersei said, a cruel glint to her eye. Gwyn clenched her jaw shut in an effort not to retort. She wouldn't let Cersei have the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to her this time. When Gwyn didn't respond Cersei moved on, picking up two halves of a ripped piece of paper.

"We received a message early this morning from your husband." Cersei said as she stood from her chair. Gwyn's heart seemed to skip a beat as Cersei walked to where she sat and placed the pieces of paper down in front of her.

"He sent our cousin, Alton, with his terms. You may read it if you like. Though I do so apologize for the state of the missive." Cersei said as she walked back to her chair and sat down, a pleased smile on her face.

"Yes, my sister has had a penchant of late for ripping up letters." Tyrion drawled, swirling his wine in his cup. His older sister threw him a glare as Gwyn picked up the pieces of Robb's letter, her heart beating fast as she gazed upon his familiar handwriting. She hadn't seen it in so long.

 _Robb wrote this. He held this paper._ She thought quietly as she did her best to fit the two halves of the letter together. The siblings silently watched her as she began to read. She quickly realized they were peace terms, the letter addressed to Joffrey, though she doubted Joffrey had even seen the letter. She was sure it had been brought straight to Cersei and the small council.

 _I offer you peace if these terms are met._

 _First, your family must release my wife and unborn child, unharmed._

 _Second, my father's bones must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell. The remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned, so their families can honor them with proper funerals._

 _Third, you, King Joffrey, and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North. From this time till the end of time, we are a free and independent kingdom. Neither you nor any of your men shall set foot in our lands again._

 _If you disregard this command I shall litter the south with Lannister dead, and you shall suffer the same fate as my father. A fate I shall administer myself._

 _Should you meet these terms you will know peace._

 _Robb Stark_

 _Lord of Winterfell_

 _King in the North_

Gwyn stared at the letter. Reading and re-reading her husband's fierce words. Finally she lowered the letter to the table, picking her head up to look at Cersei.

"Spirited, isn't he?" Cersei said, sweetly. She narrowed her eyes at Gwyn, a smile on her lips.

"We are planning on giving him his father's bones back. A gesture of good faith." Tyrion said, drawing Gwyn's attention to the opposite end of the table. "Later today we will send our cousin back with them." He started to say.

"But we would like you to respond to your husbands demands." Cersei said. Gwyn froze at the older woman's words. "We would like you to write him a letter. Tell him we will return Eddard Stark to him. You will include _our_ terms. And of course, you may reassure him that you are _quite_ safe." Cersei said.

 _Should I continue to be a useful bargaining chip._ Gwyn thought as a servant brought over a piece of paper, ink, and a quill. Gwyn looked from Cersei to Tyrion, and back again.

"Please." Cersei said, sitting back in her chair looking like the cat that had eaten the canary. Gwyn desperately wanted to grab the ink well and throw it at the woman's head, but instead she picked up the quill and begrudgingly began to write.

* * *

Jon looked warily out at Pyke, the seat of house Greyjoy, as their ship neared the Iron Islands. It wouldn't be long now. Theon had left only moments before, heading to his cabin to no doubt to go another round with the Captain's daughter. Jon shook his head at the thought. He leaned his arms on the railing, letting his head hang over the side of the ship. He closed his eyes as a light spray of salt water misted over his face. Every part of him was tense. He took a deep salt filled breath before standing up straight once more. His eyes opened, landing on Pyke. His jaw clenched as he looked upon the castle. He was sure this was a mistake. But, only time would tell.


End file.
